A physical manifestation of the rush of emotions in me, pulsated through my temples as I stepped out of my room for breakfast today morning. Two squashed chicklets with red immortality nectar spewed around them; lifelessly laid in a casket of prepubescent feathers. No amount of ignoring could've made me react the way I did but I did do so due to the everyday tire of explaining my misunderstood ass to the unfathomably short sighted people around me. Don't get me wrong, this subtle resentment isn't baseless and neither am I afraid to show it, I'm just tired of unequivocally justifying myself is all - a rant for another time. Coming back, to reacting the way I wanted to is what I'm trying to resolve here - as mental as it may sound and as less hesitant as I can be - I wanted to obsessively try to figure out the cause of their death and more principally, give them a proper funeral.
Little incidents like these leave me wondering about the true nature of my mind and my quest to gain even remote understanding of the absolution it tries to forcefully produce out of trivial shit.
A shallow thought brings me to - "putting on a podcast and getting some more sleep should cure me" - and I might actually try it now.
